


Surround Yourself

by bettervillains



Series: Wool Skirt/Leather Jacket [3]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Strap-Ons, sin pit, uh... sin pit?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettervillains/pseuds/bettervillains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Erin," Holtz murmured, voice thick and husky with recent awakening. Erin shivered again. "No, no — don't, you're safe —"</p><p>She buried her face in Holtzmann's neck as lightning flashed, humming softly when Holtz's long, dexterous fingers wound their way into her hair. </p><p>"It's just electrostatic discharge."</p><p>Erin nodded, breathing deep. </p><p>"Maybe you need a distraction."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surround Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> [Come drop me a line/request on tumblr @bettervillains]
> 
> I was going to title this "Electrostatic Discharge" and then I listened to Surround Yourself by The Graduate on the walk to work and there it is. Left it in the summary as a nod to the past title. 
> 
> This, quite clearly if you've read the others, is a follow-up to "Busy Being Yours", but can also be read on its own (try to do that with anything I write). 
> 
> To InuGhost, who wrote in the comments that, "I am curious as to what all Erin found in the hidden box. Hopefully we'll get to see it next time." Also to acidmilkstar, who ended a paragraph of convincing with, "at any rate I vote thoroughly yes on the lightning storm :D". 
> 
> I blame you two for this.

The storm had rumbled for most of the night as they slept, but it was the boom of thunder and almost tangible snap of lightning around four in the morning which woke Erin Gilbert like it had struck her directly. 

She jumped, already sweating, already frightened, would have screamed but for the pillow she turned her head into, biting into the fabric until her racing heart settled enough to let her breathe. 

For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was, or why she was naked — then, slowly, it seeped back into the haze of her memory, and between the rumbles she could hear the even breathing of the woman next to her. 

She turned. Holtzmann didn't bat an eyelash, sleeping easily through the bedlam of the storm, and Erin was envious of her ability to shut the world out and just —

She sighed. _Exist._

Another boom of thunder sent her hiding under the covers, shivering as she felt the apartment shake. When she emerged, Holtzmann's arms were slipping around her. 

"Erin," Holtz murmured, voice thick and husky with recent awakening. Erin shivered again. "No, no — don't, you're safe —"

She buried her face in Holtzmann's neck as lightning flashed, humming softly when Holtz's long, dexterous fingers wound their way into her hair. 

"It's just electrostatic discharge."

Erin nodded, breathing deep. 

"Maybe you need a distraction."

Erin pulled back, puzzled. Holtzmann's smirk told all. Erin gave her a look. 

"Why is your solution for everything some form of interc–" 

Holtz's hand darted out, fingertips covering her lips, giggling. 

"Good god, Dr. Gilbert, you make it sound like we're dissecting a _frog_."

Erin's cheeks flushed. She nipped Holtz's fingertips, watched triumphantly as the women drew them away, shaking them quickly. 

"Well you're the one with a — a treasure chest of secret experiments —"

"Not exactly secret," Holtz mumbled, "I mean, _you_ found them —"

"— under your bed, and I can't imagine you actually —"

Holtz leaned in slowly, stroked her jaw, lips inches away. 

"Actually... Um..."

Erin swallowed. 

"Actually...?" Holtz murmured, smile sweet and coy and so goddamn infuriating Erin leaned in and kissed her just to spite that smirking expression off her face. 

It worked. Holtz's eyes faded from smug to sparkling, hand coasting over the swell of her hip, taking hold, pulling her closer. 

When the next roll of thunder crashed into the bedroom, all it did was press Erin instinctually against Holtz's thigh, and the friction was enough to make her bite her lip deeply, fingers curling against the small of her back. When the lightning flashed, she rolled away, turning her back to the window. 

Her back arched when she felt Holtz pressing kisses to the back of her neck. 

"I have an idea. You trust me?" 

"No."

"No?" 

"I've seen you in the field, in your lab. Yeah, as far as I can throw Kevin." 

Holtz's teeth grazed up her neck, to her ear. Erin groaned. 

"In bed, though..." Holtz offered. 

Erin swallowed. 

"In bed, fine, yes, just far enough to —"

But Holtz was already moving, tugging the crate out from under the bed, and rifling through it, digging past strange gloves and brightly colored contraptions, and even —

"What on earth," Erin asked, throat suddenly dry, "Is that."

Holtzmann squinted, pulled out what her hand was laid on. 

"This?"

"Yeah."

"You've never — really? You don't know what —"

"No." 

"You, uh," Holtz lifted it for emphasis. "You put this on, and then this goes through here, and then you..." She smirked, met Erin's eyes. "Engage in intercourse." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, not dry or anything, that's no fun — you, you know, wanna lube it up or something — not like a car, don't want motor oil up in your —"

"I'm familiar with the concept," Erin interrupted. 

They sat in silence for a few moments. The lightning flashed behind them, but Erin hardly noticed. 

"Do you," Holtzmann said slowly, curiously, brow furrowed. "Want to... You know." 

Erin, ever empirical, was already doing the math. 

"Does it hurt?"

"Depends. Not if you do it right, usually. Not if you're good."

"And you, I presume, are good."

Holtz flashed a cocky grin. Erin shrugged, an attempt at a casual glance —

"Sure."

"You sure? Not everyone's into it, we don't —"

Erin leaned down, tugged her close by the back of her hair, and kissed her squarely on the lips. When she pulled away, Holtz's cheeks were a delicate scarlet, a wave of heat in the cut of her pale jaw. 

It took less time than she expected for Holtz to be ready, laid over her and half crouched, a dark web of leather crossing over her hips, thighs —

"So I'm just, uh, gonna go slow, like, you tell me when you're — and if, I mean —"

Erin smiled. Holtz appeared to be eighteen again, hands fumbling with a familiar foil packet and then an unfamiliar one, unable to meet her eyes. 

"I _have_ done this part before," Erin interrupted, lazily, and it was true — she thought back to the last time, albeit a while ago, maybe months, to the well-meaning lab assistant who delivered a few tipsy stanzas about respect and womanhood before Erin had to tug his face into her neck just to shut him up. 

Holtzmann nodded, an expression that Erin dimly identified as embarrassment, or else underestimation. 

"Right." The engineer cleared her throat, recalculating. "Right, yeah —"

"If you're uncomfortable..."

Erin's voice trailed off. Holtz shook her head. 

"No, no, me I'm — no, I'm living the dream." 

Erin tugged her down, fingers laced around the back of her neck. 

"Alright, Holtz, I'm a woman, not an Olympic medal, so —" 

When she kissed her, the tremor in Holtz's fingertips vanished entirely, stroking and pressing that spot on her hipbone that always pulled a groan from the pit of her stomach. 

This Holtz knew, Erin realized, with a smile. This had been experiments to a scientist, as much a part of her work and herself as the proton packs in the lab, as her Faraday cages and unflinching abandonment of safety lights. 

They didn't speak much after that — simple, short, monosyllabic sounds of affirmation, of query, of intense approval. Slowly, at first, as promised —

And Holtz was right — she was good. Whatever pressure nearly resembled pain was gone in a few strokes — for a moment, Erin's mind drifted to so many golf games in her youth, to par for the course, to — but then the wading shallows were abandoned for something more daring, and Erin swept in a breath as deep as the sea, head tipped back, back arched —

When next the thunder rumbled, it shook the room, the bed, its contents, jostling the two, twined together, and the yelp that neither of them would own afterwards escaped Erin's lips, and suddenly the storm was a blessing, a tangling of leg around hip, a grinding up, under, in — 

Someone was swearing, and then someone else, and even those were a single syllable apiece, and Holtz, with her eyes black as not-yet diamond and her hips not quite stopping, was lurching away from her enough to work her hand between their bodies, a movement so uncomfortable in its positioning that Erin would have scolded if a sudden circling didn't reveal its intention — her teeth sunk into Holtz's shoulder, and gone was the quiet, ghost of a Gilbert, hips drumming a sharp, stunning, ceaseless rhythm, and the thunder boomed around them and it was permission, at last, permission to crash and bloom and be loud, as loud as the sea, as the splitting earth, the roaring sky —

When exactly her legs had clamped a vice around Holtzmann's hips she couldn't say. Even in the aftermath, she barely moved, even to loosen her grip, and for the beat of a long moment they lay there, breath in waves and staggered thrusts, sweat mingled, salt and sweet heat —

"That was..." Erin shook her head, voice trailing off. Holtz scoffed. 

"Don't even. That was all you at the end there."

"You," Erin mumbled around the drought in her throat, swallowed, "Bet your sweet ass it was." 

Holtzmann laughed, a high bark of a sound, as Erin giggled into her shoulder. 

"I'm not going back to sleep without a shower." 

"Mm. Fair enough." 

The disentangling process was almost a smooth one, a matter of grunts and buckles, and finally Holtzmann stood, harness laced around her fingers like a cat's cradle, twirling it. She'd made it to the bathroom door before she turned to find Erin watching, still prone, propped up on one arm. 

"You coming?"

Holtzmann smirked, and opened her mouth to say something else — a something else that died as Erin hurled something at her, and crowed victoriously as the dildo struck her squarely in the chin.


End file.
